Who's the Fairest
by Arcie Emm
See Prior parts of The Journey of Manny and Maude
1. Mirror Mirror
2. On the Wall
3. In This Land
Prologue
_______
The scene belonged in a fairy tale. A beautiful summer day, the sun
shining upon a meadow in which wolf pups boisterously chased one another
about, yipping their joy at the moment. For a time they owned the world,
but then, from a thicket of trees, a jay's flight distracted them.
Let us leave them to their play, instead we will approach that thicket.
For why else would it exist, if not to be mysterious?
Ah-hah, it hides a small hill, with an opening that surely leads to the
den from which those adorable cubs came. Shall we venture inside, making
life difficult for the author whose laziness shouts for him to quit? Of
course we shall.
Oh-ho, is that a fire I hear? Is that candle light I see? Not something
expected inside a wolf's den, but this is not a normal den. Instead it
has walls paneled in lustrous walnut and chairs so soft, so inviting,
covered in ox blood coloured leather. Yet our eyes are drawn to those
sitting in the chairs, specifically their hair. Extravagant enough to
make one wonder if they were the high priests of the Hair Cult for Men.
Two of them, one older and one younger with frames of wiry strength
shaved the sides of their heads, but allowed the rest to grow long,
before twining it into long braids. Unlike the others, the third man,
burly and grizzled, his leather vest hiding few of his scars from past
battles, let his bronzed mane flow free.
He yelled, "Liz! Liz, where's that information?"
"Quit shouting, Wayne!"
This answer preceded the arrival of a woman with hair of a winter
tigress, that is if a winter tigress had hair instead of fur and if that
fur flowed like a river in the midst of winter thaw. Yes, dear reader, I
too am momentarily struck by awe at the sight of her. Awe that someone
so majestically proportioned remained standing.
Taking the leather bag from her, the burly man asked, "Is there a scry
of him?"
"Inside."
With the rolled up parchment in hand, he tossed the bag to the older man
and walked to the one uncovered wall, its stone recently cleaned. The
parchment unrolled, he used sap to stick it on the wall. An image of a
dark haired man, an evil sneer on his face, almost as if the scry
existed with the sole intention to say, 'this is a bad guy.'
"Okay, Tongueblood, tell me about him," Wayne said, as he reached for a
piece of chalk.
"Simon Unkler! Stands 2 Yardovian meters tall and weighs in at 16
stones."
"Big son-of-a-mother. He'll be dangerous, so everybody be extra careful.
What's the charge?"
"He skipped out on his upcoming wedding to Duchess Cindi in Angharee."
"So add desperate to his faults. Fortunately, I just heard from a little
bird who spotted him entering a beer tent at Everlong Faire over at
Fairetown. We've been asked by Knobby Green to capture him and that's
what we're going to do. So everybody gear up."
While the woman checked her make-up and changed into higher heeled
boots, the three men pulled on chain-mail tunics and chose cudgels.
Done, they gathered in a circle, held hands, and bowed their heads,
while their leader said, "Aeola grant us your blessings as you look down
upon us during this day and night. Okay, Let's go."
At these words, the three men blurred. In their place stood 3 massive,
fur covered beasts, each with the head of a wolf, but standing upon two
legs.
"Big alpha's on the prowl," said the woman, just before she underwent
her own transformation, turning into a smaller, all white version of the
others.
In unison, they dropped to all fours. Not long afterwards the den stood
empty.
***
In Fairetown, the four asked around for Simon, showing people their
scry. Their questioning led them, late in the evening, to The second
floor of the Dancing Turtle inn, where Wolf questioned an innkeeper
thrilled to help Wolf the Bounty Picker Upper.
"You're sure this is Simon's room?" Wolf asked.
"He uses a different name, Mr. Wolf, but he sure do match the scry you
showed me. He appeared a couple days ago and replaced a right pretty
thing."
"And he's in there now?"
"Yeppers, saw him return with my own three eyes."
"Very well, do you have a spare key?"
"Oh, we don't use keys, Mr. Wolf."
"Do you give me permission to enter the room?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Makes it legal for me to enter and look."
"Wow, can I watch? I mean sure thing, Mr. Wolf Sir."
"You can watch, but stand back and don't get in the way. Ready,
Treehand? Ready, Tongueblood?"
At their matched nods, he balled his hand into a fist and pounded on the
door. "Simon Unkler, I know you're in there."
In answer, they heard a startled shout. "Whaa..."
All the cue Wolf needed, he said, "Get him."
With this, the other two men burst through the door, cudgels in hand.
There they found their target, groggily waking from a sleep, clad only
in his drawers. Without hesitation, they yanked him off the bed, threw
him to the ground, and kneeled above him with their weapons held
threateningly over head.
This ended the man's struggles, instead he yelled, "Don't mace me! Don't
mace me!"
At this surrender, they each grabbed an arm and lifted him to his feet.
While they tied his wrists together, Wolf said, "You didn't think you
could escape me, did you Simon?"
"Who are you? Wait, I'm not Simon. I'm..."
"You're telling me this isn't you, Motherpupper?" Wolf asked, the scry
thrust in front of his prisoner.
"See it's like this."
He did not get any further before an older woman, dressed in a
nightgown, entered the room and querulously asked, "What's going on
here?"
Liz moved towards her and said, "None of your business."
"But he's my employee."
"Madam, you're going to have to leave, you're interfering with the
sanctioned bond collection of Simon Unkler and I'm not going to let you
take food away from my children."
"Your children? What are you talking about?"
"Listen, bi..."
"No, you listen to me, that is not Simon Unkler. That is my bodyguard,
Manny kin Nichino."
Sergeant Unkler:
Once again Manny found himself cast adrift by his employer. Andy's
reigns in hand, he walked away from the Sisterhood of Seamstrist's tent
within the Everlong Faire grounds, Maude's locale for the next three
weeks while its regular proprietress partook in the annual Extreme
Cheese Wheel Rollathon from Madron to Lisbid. With everything unloaded,
a task simplified by the witch's walking trunks, he soon dispatched the
wagon and auroch, the first to the guarded area at the Faire's edge and
the other into the hands of the Faire's herdsmen.
Now, with his employer's gentle suggestion to entertain himself in mind,
Manny wandered the faire, seeing much of interest, but with a nearly
empty purse he withstood temptation. Not that he planned to stop, for
amongst the many strange sights and beings at the Faire, he stood out
amongst the strangest. Even with his robe, he drew stares, be they
surprise, lust, or envy. True, trapped as a bigxie for weeks, Manny
found himself less bothered by the attention, but it still owned the
power of frustration. He kept moving, ignoring both vendors who hawked
their wares and side stepping those of the male species overly impressed
with themselves.
Not long after avoiding an entire pack of such creatures, he noticed a
cloaked man skulk into a tent. The way the man's eyes darted about,
lingering on nothing, even the bigxie in the street, initially drew
Manny's attention. But what held it were the familiar mannerisms. The
way the man walked, even his shape. Manny felt sure he saw Sergeant
Unkler, who once served as quartermaster in the Beige Baron's regiment.
And though never bosom companions, the man often chose Manny's squad to
protect him during his regiment appointed ventures. Almost he followed
the man into the drinking tent, but stopped himself. Yet at the end the
lane, he turned back the way he came, peeking inside to see the sergeant
by himself at the back. Manny continued onward, but the hint of the idea
took hold and tossed aside potential embarrassments for the chance to
regain some normalcy in his life. Therefore, midway through his fourth
trip along the lane, he entered the tent and approached the watching
man. A smile came across the sergeant's face, one Manny suspected
explained the man's success with woman, something the rest of the
regiment envied.
"I was not planning on buying anything, but you may be able to change my
mind, Gorgeous."
"Sergeant Unkler, I'm Manny kin Nichino. From the regiment."
For years, Sergeant Unkler kept the regiment well fed and equipped,
because he did not easily surprise. This situation proved no different,
he allowed an appreciative eye to run over Manny's form, barely hidden
by the fitted robe, before he said, "I think I would have known if
someone looking like you was in the regiment. However, Corporal Nichino
was a rather large, foreboding fellow."
Manny searched his mind for a memory to convince Unkler. "Honest,
Sergeant, it's me. Remember the campaign between the Counts of Dalodone
and Tekmag. How when one of our patrol's stumbled upon the Countess of
Dalodone, the Baron ransomed her off without telling the Tekmageans.
Well my squad guarded her tent the night before the hand over and I know
you received a reward that didn't fit within the regiment's coffers."
"Ahh, Nichino, I knew I could rely on your silence, you always were the
solid sort. How in the name of all that is holy did you find yourself
so...ummm...spectacular."
Manny waved off an approaching barmaid and took a seat across from the
man. In a soft voice, the former corporal explained his adventures in
the Land Beyond. Finished, he waited for the other to express his
disbelief.
"So, I'm guessing you're hoping to borrow my image?"
"Well, I..."
"I don't know, Corporal. How would it look if you got in trouble while
looking like me?"
"Oh, I wouldn't do anything like that, Sergeant."
Unkler nodded his head. "No, you're not the type."
***
Locked in the main holding pen of Fairetown's gaol, with the pick
pockets, drunks, and rowdies common at Everlong Faire, Manny alternated
between glaring at the riff raff and cursing himself for an idiot. Why
let Unkler disarm him with the comment about causing trouble? Everybody,
including the two men, knew Manny may not be the type to do so, but the
same could not be said for the sergeant. And why did no alarm trigger
when the man met him at Maude's tent without asking for anything in
return?
The sergeant was an asshole. Everybody in the regiment knew that, but
accepted it because he was their asshole. But the regiment no longer
existed and Manny should have remembered the Baron controlled his
problem children through the constant threat of Lieutenant Finkle, who
relished an earned reputation as a vicious killer.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Manny said.
"Shut up, git," the nearest man, a scrawny thief, snarled.
Despite being a softy, Manny knew you needed to be hard in hard places;
therefore, he only stared, until the man looked away. For though Unkler
could not cast as foreboding figure as Manny's true form, he could cow
most scrawny thieves.
What sucked the most, the last couple days were pure joy. Though grown
used to life as a bigxie, as a female, even enjoyed it a time or two, it
never felt right. Returned to male hood, he felt more himself, so much
so that a smile never left his face, at least until the bounty picker
uppers burst through his door. A smile he tried upon more than a few
pretty maidens, hoping to build enough confidence to see where their
answering smiles may lead. Now he wouldn't get the chance.
Once more Manny wondered about Sergeant Unkler's crime. He guessed a
minor offense, otherwise they would not place him in the common cell.
Besides he need not worry, surely he could convince the authorities they
held the wrong man. Maude told him that everybody new about shape
changing in the Land Beyond.
Maude.
Her actions of the prior night, her ferociousness when confronting the
pack of bounty hunters, made him smile. Only her presence stopped them
from bundling him out of Fairetown before anybody knew. Instead she
forced them to hand him over to the town's authorities. Furthermore, she
also convinced them to let him dress, which after spending time in the
cold pen further increased his gratitude.
Gaolty
______
While wondering if he would ever fall asleep, three gaol keepers
appeared at the gate to the holding pen, where one shouted. "Simon
Unkler! Simon Unkler to the gate."
Looking out a barred window to see it still dark, he hoped their early
arrival meant they planned to set him free. But that did not explain why
they called him by the sergeant's name. Realizing an answer waited, he
moved toward the gate. The gaol keeper in charge, a bald headed man
larger than Manny's true self, opened the door, while the second
shackled Manny. The three then escorted him into a long hall, past
numerous doors, until they came to a stop.
The bald gaol keeper said, "Inside."
"Yes, Sir."
Hesitantly, he stepped into the small room, where Maude waited. "Maude,
you're here!"
"Did you doubt me, Manny?" she asked.
For the first time since the ordeal had begun, Manny smiled. "Actually,
I never did. Thank you."
She offered a smile in return. "Of course. But we have little time for
pleasantries, let me introduce you to your lawyer, Barrister Ashley
Ashtonson."
Manny only stared, not with the glower offered the thief in the pen, but
with the wonder so often experienced since he crossed the Bridge of
Happening. For there stood, on short, stumpy, root like legs, a man
tree, with leaves for hair above a face etched into the trunk.
"You're a lawyer?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" The ent asked, his voice a deep, melodious timbre.
"There is no reason an ashent cannot be a lawyer, justice doesn't only
matter to oakents."
As his voice rose, Manny hurried to apologize. "No, no, I'm sorry. It
isn't because you're an, ashent was it? I know nothing about, umm,
ashents."
"Ahh, forgive me. Aren't I the one, jumping to conclusions. So you're
not like my family, believing nobody likes a wise ash?"
"What's wrong with a wise ash?"
"Exactly. That's what I asked my parents when they tried to void my
scholarship to law school. They don't understand I have a calling,
instead they want me to leave my practise and join the family's
interpretive dance troupe."
"Umm, well I'm happy to have your help. What type of pickle has Sergeant
Unkler gotten me into?
"Yes, yes, let us focus upon the now. It, not the past, is what is
important. Fortunately it is only a contract issue, instead of a crime.
Unfortunately, the other party in the contract is quite powerful, the
Duchess of Were."
"Where?"
"Exactly."
"No, Duchess of where?"
Before this could get out of hand, Maude interrupted and said, "Manny,
not where, but were as in were-wolves, were-ponies, and such."
"Ahh, weres are real? I guess this is the Land Beyond. So how did he rip
her off?"
"Apparently your Sergeant Unkler was to marry the Duchess, but he
disappeared before the wedding. Her people hope to have him, well now
you, extradited back to Angharee, the Ducal Seat."
Manny said, "That doesn't sound right, the sergeant often spoke about
finding some rich woman to look after him."
"He probably learned the Duchess is a were-spider, like her mother. The
Grove knows there are enough ghastly rumours about her father's demise,
nearly nine months before she was born."
Manny's eyes widened. "They're going to make me marry a spider! Uh-buh-
uh-whu..."
"Not if I can help it, I see no reason why we cannot prove you are
yourself, not Simon Unkler. Though it would be best not to look like
him."
As eager as he turned into Unkler, Manny felt even more eager to rid
himself of the man's form. Therefore, he hurried to stand in front of
the mirror. He said, "Maybe Liriel, Maude? She's so innocent looking."
"Not a good idea, Manny. It was in Fairetown she found out about her
cheating boyfriend. Dealing with the fallout is what brought Ashley and
myself together the first time."
The ashent would have nodded his head at this, except for the whole no
neck thing, instead he said, "I agree, Liriel is not a good choice. She
left a rather large black mark behind when she vanished from town. Maude
mentioned you are usually what she called a bigxie, that is best."
Flicking through the different images, Maude found the pink-armoured
bigxie image. Almost normal now, the change came quickly, marked only by
the clang of metal as the shackles slipped from suddenly thinner wrists
and fell to the floor.
"Oh, we can't have that. Don't want to look like you are trying to
escape," At these words, Ashley gracefully moved to the door and opened
it to the distrustful stare of the large gaol keeper and he asked.
"Excuse me, your shackles fell off, can you come put them back on."
Their rush inside, momentary bottle necked at the door, come to a sudden
stop when the three men spotted the transformed prisoner. Gaping and
drooling ensued before the leader's wits returned. "Hey, what's going on
here? Where's the prisoner? And who's she?"
"They're one and the same, officer. My client had been transformed and
we felt it best to return her to her normal appearance before court."
"Umm, but, umm, okay. Let's see about those shackles," The large gaol
keeper said, as he knelt to pick them up, stopped for a moment to admire
Manny from the new angle, he reluctantly rose to place the shackles
around the prisoner's outstretched arms.
CLANG!!
"Damn it, they don't fit. We'll need to get another pair."
"I won't try to escape."
Now Manny's voice held none of the vamp, which humbled Sir Steve, he
just spoke in that sultry voice Maude gave him early in their journey.
Yet the gaol keepers were not tempered in the same fire of righteousness
as the paladin, which meant one swayed, another's knees buckled, and the
bald one gulped nervously.
"Ahhh, okay?"
Ashley saved them from further thought, when he said, "Maybe we should
head to the courtroom, officers."
"Alrighty then."
"So early?" Manny asked. "It's not yet morning."
Ashley answered, "We, in Fairetown, pride ourselves on our justice
system. All those arrested during the night have the right to see a
judge before the morning dew is burned away."
The seven of them - three guards, a seamstress, her mirror, the ashent
lawyer, and the bigxie prisoner - left the room and walked down the
hallway into a large waiting room, which held a number of guards and
prisoners, most of whom suddenly found themselves distracted by their
admiration for the colour pink. While they waited, Ashley asked the gaol
keeper. "Who's sitting?"
"Judge Rock."
Smiling at the news, Ashley led them to the side where they waited in
silence. Finally the gaol keepers, at some unseen signal, led them into
a small courtroom, similar to most of its kind, with two desks at the
front. Behind the lower stood a plump, dark skinned man, while behind
the higher and larger desk sat a tall, thin man, idly shuffling a deck
of cards.
A merry twinkle in his eyes, the thin man's gaze darted from face to
face. Stopping on Manny, he grinned mischievously and asked, "What do we
have, Zac?"
The man at the lower desk read from a sheet of parchment. "It is a 223-
B, Your Honour."
"Flying while under the influence?"
"No, Your Honour, it is an extradition request from the Duchy of Were
for one Simon Unkler."
"For what dastardly deed is Simon Unkler wanted?"
"A breech of contract."
"And where is he?" the judge asked.
"I would ask the same."
Everybody turned to see an impeccably dressed middle-aged man, his salt
and pepper hair coiffed to perfection, enter through the main door.
Strolling forward, he said, "Your Honour, allow me to introduce myself.
I am Phillip del Fia, Court Advocate to the Duchess of Were. When we
learned her betrothed had been found, she dispatched me to see to his
speedy return. However, I do not see him?"
Ashley said, "If I may, Your Honour?"
"Ahh, Barrister Ashtonson, can you clear up this mystery?"
"Yes, Your Honour. You see it is a matter of mistaken identity," Ashley
said. "My client, Manny kin Nichino, was transformed to appear as this
Unkler. While transformed, the bounty picker upper Wolf took her into
custody."
del Fia said, "That seems rather convenient."
Judge Stone agreed. "Yes it does, can you prove what you say?"
"We can, Your Honour. Seamstrist Maude Zbornak, who is my client's
employer, performed the transformation with her mirror, which registered
all changes. The truth can be confirmed easily enough."
"Zac?"
"On it, Your Honour," The clerk said, rummaging around in his desk to
find a large scroll wrapped mostly around the bottom of its two wooden
rollers. Holding it before him, Zac chanted, "Manny, Manny, bo banny,
Banana fana fo fanny, Fe fi mo anny, Manny!"
At these words the scroll, well, scrolled from the thick to thin roll,
stopping when each neared the same thickness. Now scrolling it manually
Zac began said, "Anderson ... Duckles ... Jornigen ... ahh, here it is,
kin Nichino. Well there's a recognizable name and that too. Your Honour,
it is as Barrister Ashtonson said, Manny kin Nichino was transformed
into Simon Unkler three afternoons ago."
"Very well, I guess it's case dis..."
The duchess's advocate interrupted both the judge's words and swinging
gavel, to say, "Excuse me, Your Honour, I would bring to your attention
the case of Ticolodin vs the Principality of Desolence."
"Eh?"
"In it, the Court of Desolence, determined in willingly taking upon the
form of another, the transformed may also takes upon the debts of the
form."
"I see."
"Your Honour, the Court of Desolence holds no jurisdiction within
Fairetown," Ashley stated, in protest.
"True, but it's rulings are highly respected, it may be a good idea to
bump it up to a higher court."
"The courts of Angharee are at your disposal, Your Honour," del Fia
volunteered.
"And my client would get a fair trial from twelve Angharee men?"
"Of course."
"Thank you for your offer, Advocate del Fia, but Fairetown can manage on
its own. What's available, Zacadamian?"
"There's an opening in five days, shall I book it?"
"Counselors?" Judge Stone questioned. Upon receiving two affirmatives,
he asked, "Anything else?"
"I expect my client will be free until that time, Your Honour?"
"I would hope not, Your Honour. We know she is friends with a known
runner. Plus she is obvious a flight risk."
A boyish grin appeared on the judge's face as he said, "I understand
your concern, Advocate del Fia. However, Miss Nichino has currently done
nothing for which I can detain her."
"Your Honour..."
Ashley interrupted his opponent's protests, to say, "Your Honour, my
client will give her oath that she will not flee before her trail."
Concerned less by the frequent uses of hers, shes, and misses than the
possibility of returning to the gaol, Manny eagerly nodded agreement.
Distracted by the resulting bounce and sway of ... of ... of ... yeah,
that's it ... of long blond hair, Judge Rock took a moment to say, "That
would work. Do you so swear, Miss Nichino?"
"I swear, Your Honour."
Noticing the dazzled manner in which the judge gazed upon Manny, Phillip
del Fia plotted the next move in his legal dance. Although nary a
twirled mustache provided a hint to his thoughts.
Monitor
______
The outcome in Judge Rock's courtroom raised some questions in Ashley's
mind, which led the barrister to scurry further into the courts to
research the trial del Fia raised as precedence. Meanwhile, Maude guided
her guard back to their inn, leaving him with orders to get some sleep
and to not leave his room. Rankled by the orders, he changed out of his
armour into his nightgown, lay upon the bed, and thought about the
trouble in which he continued to find himself. Fortunately skills
developed as a soldier allowed him to bury his worries beneath slumber.
Slumber broken once more by the sound of a knock on the door. Shocked
awake, Manny leapt into the air, his wings blurring to hold him aloft.
This time the door did not burst open. Flitting to the door, he settled
upon the floor, and asked, "Who is it?"
"Auxiliary Gaol Keeper Ruck Ankiel."
"What do you want? I thought I was free to go?"
"I'm not here to arrest you, I'm your monitor."
"What?"
"Your monitor. The court assigned me to watch over you."
Lack of sleep, anger at Unkler's schemes, annoyance with his entire
girlification in the Land Beyond combined in a frustration that made
Manny yank open the door and snarl, "I said I wouldn't run."
But he saw nobody.
"Down here, Toots."
Few know of the Island of Tontimtona, in the Sea of Pokato, but those
who do, know it has little to recommend it as a place for a ship to
stop. Sure, it could serve as the setting for Paradise, but so could the
hundreds of other islands that surrounded it. However, Tontimtona did
have the Hole of Meleguhle, so named by the people of the island in
honour of the great sea tortoises that swam out of the sea and marched
there to die.
After many centuries, this left the hole filled with a rich dirt,
flecked with broken-up tortoiseshell. Dirt the witch doctors of the
island used for everything from poultices to the lustrous dyes that
offered the one reason for traders to stop. Dyes produced by the most
experienced witch doctors, requiring most of a life's learning before
one would even be allowed to harvest from the hole, never mind perform
the secret ritual to create the dye. A ritual that brought together all
skills learned after children proved their worth to walk the path of the
witch doctor. Proof that required a child to pass the Test of the
Wawkini, where they crafted the Wawkini paste used by the people's
warriors to cover themselves before night raids upon neighbouring
islands. A paste they believed made them invisible to all but the Moon
Goddess, Alice, and which mostly consisted of the droppings of seagulls.
Now if you've ever spent time in the study of seagull droppings, and
really who hasn't, you know that like snowflakes, no two are the same.
Nor do two sets of droppings react consistently with the other
ingredients in Wawkini paste; palm fronds, ground up barracuda, silt
from the bottom of the sea, and saffron. Which explained why only those
whose spirits were rich in chlorimidians (amazingly enough, usually
children of witch doctor families) could pass the Test of the Wawkini
and begin the long years of study to obtain their witch doctorate.
Regardless of success or failure, the paste invariably ended up a putrid
grey green colour.
Manny did not count amongst those who knew about the Island of
Tontimtona, nor even the Sea of Pokato, so of course he knew nothing
about Wawkini Paste. But if he did, he surely would think the rough hide
of the giant lizard, which waited in the hallway, matched the colours of
that paste. However, unaware of the comparison, he just thought the
putrid grey green colour, marked with tens of scars, provided only one
reasons to make the beast horrifying. For it stood, almost as high as
his knees, on four viscously clawed feet, its tail, longer than its
body, drooping through the railing of the upper floor, while hundreds,
maybe thousands, of serrated teeth shared a mouth with blood tinged
drool. Barely did Manny stop himself from shrieking and leaping into the
air, but curiosity about the an eye-patch the lizard wore over its right
eye made things more a mystery. For it showed the same patch found on
the chests of the gaol keepers, a sad jester looking out through four
bars.
Looking at Manny, the lizard scooched forward and rose upright upon its
hind legs. Ignoring the resulting, unstoppable bigxie shriek and leap,
Ruck's dexterous claws worked the buckles of a pouch strapped to his
torso and removed a piece of parchment. This he held towards Manny and
said, "A note of explanation from your barrister."
Nervously reaching out, fearing the loss of a hand, Manny took the
offering, unfolding it to read:
Dear Manny,
After you left, del Fia arranged an appearance before Judge Wilco
Wilcoxovich, with whom he went to law school. This resulted in an
arrangement for you to be monitored. I have filed a protest, but for now
you will need to accept Ankiel's presence.
Sincerely,
Ashley Ashtonson, BL
"I'm not going anywhere, Maude told me to wait in my room."
"That's great, still I'm to stick to you like a worm to the ground. Well
not figuratively, I'm not covered in the tasty slime that coats a worm."
About then Manny realized he stood in the doorway wearing nothing more
than his nightgown, the one gifted to him by Nikki, the one which Maude
steadfastly refused to replace, a naughty smile appearing on her face
whenever he asked. With his recent luck, he felt surprise that hall
remained empty of everyone but Ruck; however, not wishing to further
tempt fate, he said, "Umm...okay. I guess you may as well come in."
Once Ruck entered, Manny closed the door. Hands upon hips, he looked
down at the lizard, who in turn looked up at him, and asked, "So how
does this work?"
Ruck answered, "Well you do whatever you usually do, while I watch to
ensure what you usually do does not involve leaving Fairetown."
"And if I do try to leave."
"Well I run fast and have lots of teeth, you can find out what that
means if you want. No skin off my snout."
"I can fly."
"So I see, which is why they picked me to be your monitor, see I'm a
were-dragon."
"A what?"
"Were-dragon."
"But..."
"Why would I stay a lizard, if I could be a glorious dragon? You
wouldn't ask if you knew the size of my appetite when I'm in dragon
form, couldn't afford to keep myself fed on a civil servant's wage
without the backing of mommy or daddy's hoard."
"I was going to say, doesn't there need to be a full moon for you to
turn into a dragon."
"With you there'll always be a full moon overhead, true maybe hidden by
a pink silken cloud, but its there none-the-less."
It took a moment before Manny figured it out. When he did, he tried to
pull the nearly transparent skirts of his nightgown lower, blushed a
pink to match that silken cloud, and shouted. "Hey!"
"Don't worry, Toots, you're not my type. Though hearing the guys talk
about you in the wardroom today, I may be alone in that."
"My name's Manny."
"Sure thing, Toots."
"Don't call...ahh, never mind. So about the full moon."
"During the day the moon looks forward to make sure she doesn't run into
a star while we chase her through the heavens. But she's still there, we
just can't see her. Then during the night she looks back to ensure we
still follow, offering a stare, a wink, or a glower. Regardless, the
moon is always full, so I can go were whenever, if ever, you attempt to
escape."
"You're going to be bored, I can't leave the inn."
"I'm a lizard, we live to be bored. Now if there's no further questions,
why don't you get back to what you were doing, sleep apparently, and I
will join you. Whoops, that didn't come out quite right, you sleep on
the bed, I'll sleep in front of the door, since the window's too small
for you to squeeze through."
Sleep did offer an escape from life's insanity, so Manny climbed once
more under his blanket, while Ruck put action to words and lay in front
of the door. Both had nearly succumbed when another worry popped into
Manny's mind.
"Hey!"
"Now what?"
"If you're a were, how do I know you're not in cahoots with the Duchess
of Were to kidnap me like that Wolf guy?"
"She's only the duchess of weres there in Were, not weres here or not in
Were. Besides the weres in Were don't like beast-weres like me. They
think they're the true weres and their agents are always here and
they're trying to get weres not in Were in trouble with their
neighbours. I don't like Were weres."
Hearing the conviction in Ruck's words, Manny said, "That makes sense."
Foci Group
_________
Late afternoon found Manny awake, Ruck proving that bigxies were not his
type when he did little more than temporarily open his single eye while
his charge changed into pink armour. However, once dressed Manny
mentioned his hunger. Immediately Ruck awoke, willing to head down to
the common area for a meal. They bonded while demanding the innkeeper,
whom Manny had not forgiven for the bounty hunters raid, feed the lizard
raw meet. The man's sullen acceptance almost made up for watching Ruck
eat.
Their meal finished, the two discussed what they could do until a young
scruffian entered the inn, ducked under the outstretched hands of the
innkeeper, and dashed to their table, where he asked, "Are you Manny kin
Nichino?"
"No, I'm Ruck Ankiel."
"Not you, silly, the pretty lady with wings. Hey, you're a talkin'
lizard."
Knowing boys would find a talking lizard more interesting than a pretty
lady with wings, Manny said, "I'm Manny, why are you looking for me?"
Not taking his eyes off Ruck, the boy said, "The witch sent me."
"Maude?"
"I don't know her name, but she's the one in the Sisterh'd tent. She
said I was to get you to come visit and to bring her something to eat."
"Now?"
The boy turned his gaze to Manny to answer, "Yep and she said you would
give me a fairething when I delivered the message."
"An entire fairething, that is generous of her. Maybe we should check
with her first."
"Did I say a fairething, I meant a quarter-fairething."
Deeming that reasonable, Manny took a coin from his purse and tossed it
to the boy. Who, in turn, looked back at Ruck, just in time to see the
lizard's tongue whip out to catch a fly. Wide-eyed the boy stared until
Ruck winked at him, which caused the boy to laugh before he dashed out
the same way in which he arrived.
Manny asked, "Can I go to Maude's tent?"
"Yep, we can go anywhere within the boundaries of Fairetown."
"Okay, let's go."
***
With Maude's lunch in hand, the two began the trek to the faire-grounds.
And if a full sized pixie in a snow white robe did not already draw the
eye, adding a giant lizard did nothing to minimize the stares. Not that
Manny noticed, lost in his thoughts, nor did Ruck care. At the Sister of
Seamstrist's tent, they watched a bored Maude eat lunch while she
bemoaned the lack of customers. While Manny commiserated with his
employer, two ents entered the tent. He recognized Ashley who carried a
basket, while thinking the other seemed female. Not because she wore a
dress, both ents were as bare barked as the day they sprouted, but
because of her long, lush, red foliage of maple leaves, pruned just so.
His guess proved correct with Ashley's introductions. "Maybelline this
is our client Manny kin Nichino. Manny this is my particular friend,
Maybelline L'Ouest, who I retain as image consultant for my clients."
"Image consultant?" Manny asked.
"Exactly, while Ashley does a formidable job presenting the legalities
of his clients's cases, he needs my assistance to ensure they make a
good first impression with the jury. For example, you need to portray
the innocent, not the temptress."
"I am innocent," Manny said.
"Yes, that is all well and good, my dear, but your opinion hardly
matters in a trial, does it? First; however, I need to speak to Maude
for a moment."
While the maplent and Seamstrist talked, Manny turned towards his
barrister and again asked, "Image consultant?"
"She's very good. She served as the head costumer of the Non-Royal
Ballet Academy of Beechswutz and now freelances for the musical troupes
and acting companies based in Fairetown. That's when she not offering
this special skill to the community's defenders. Besides I like when
she's around."
An owner of more than a few past infatuations, Manny said nothing,
instead he watched as Maybelline removed small crystal pyramids from the
basket. Seeing Maude's excitement, Manny asked his barrister what they
were doing.
"Maybelline captured the essence of many of Fairetown citizens into each
crystal foci. When grouped together, she can divine how a defendant
should present themselves to a jury of similar citizens."
"So this foci group will make the jury realize I'm innocent?"
"Not quite, Manny, the courts do not tolerate such magic. Better to say
it seeks to ensure no juror takes an immediate dislike towards you."
As the two talked, the maplent placed the fist sized foci in a circle
upon the tent's floor. Then she took the last large, crystal pyramid
from the basket and tossed it in the air. But it did not fall, instead
it hovered, just below the tent's peak, in the middle of the circle.
"Manny could you stand in the middle of the circle?" Maybelline asked.
With a smile of reassurance from Maude, Manny moved forward, his wings
momentarily blurring as he hopped over the circle of pyramids. He
watched as Maybelline stretched her limbs to the side and said, "Lights!
Come on! Action!"
Manny found himself inside a strange rainbow. Each of the nearly thirty
pyramids shot a beam of coloured light, upwards in a pyramid above his
head. In their current incarnation a third of the beams showed red, a
third blue, and a third green, which coalesced into a dark grey, almost
black, shadow that grasped him in its embrace. From outside this veil
came Ruck's voice.
"That better not be a teleport device."
"Eeek, a giant lizard!"
"Worry not, Maybelline," Ashley said. "That's Ruck Ankiel, he's Manny's
court appointed monitor."
"Once more, or this tent is going full dragon, is that a teleport
device?"
"No, Lizter Ankiel, it's an Attitudinal Divination Devise. And right now
it has divined a third of the potential jurors, those who shine red,
will look unkindly upon Miss kin Nichino. If possible we seek to turn
the reds and blues to green, but at a minimum want all reds to turn
blue."
Maude said, "Like I mentioned earlier, I believe Manny could pull off
sweet and adorable."
Maybelline agreed, "Probably?"
"Definitely."
"I have a bad feeling about this."
"Shush, Manny, you always carp about new clothes."
"I liked the suit you gave me at the cab...urk."
Jerked into the air by Maude's magic, she cut short his protest.
Instantly his armour disappeared into the holding chest, replaced with a
blank like those worn when he modeled for the pixie's dresses. With each
of these changes, some of the beams of light would changed colour,
bathing him in different shades. Yet this proved only the beginning. For
as Maude made changes, quick as her thoughts or the image consultant's
word, the kaleidoscopic world also changed. First, it distracted him
from the ribbons and lace that soon adorned the dress. Then, it
distracted him from reality, testing his innate bigxie sense of place,
necessary for flying. And even that sense could not combat the spots
that appeared in his vision, growing like bubbles in lava until they
burst, new ones forming in their wake.
Lost in colours, it took a moment to realize he stood upon the ground.
He asked, "What did you do to me?"
From his right, Maybelline answered, "Step through and see in the
looking glass."
"I can't see."
At this rather plaintive statement Manny felt Maude reach out to take
his hand and guide him forward a number of steps. He stood, rubbing his
eyes, creating more own bubbles, which burst into clarity.
Only his shoes, of pixie manufacture, stiletto heeled and covered in
shiny black leather with a buckled strap across his foot, would not be
worn by the young daughter of a wealthy family. But above those shoes,
his white stockings rose above his knees to disappear beneath the lace
trim of multiple underskirts. In turn, all but the trim of the
underskirt was hidden beneath the two ruffles of his blue dress, lace
and ribbon at the waist, neck and capped sleeves. Manny's immersion in
the ADD even left him with a blue ribbon tied in now wavy hair.
"I look like a little girl."
"Now I'm no expert on human anatomy, since my school couldn't afford
cadavers for earth sciences. But I'm fairly sure little girls don't have
those big bumps," Ruck said.
***
"I wish I could fly," Manny said, in an attempt to distract himself from
fiddling with the rose trimmed hem of his white pinafore, which Maude
added to keep his dress clean while she made him inventory her
bottomless button chest.
"If you buy me a cow, I'll let you fly."
"A cow, Ruck? Why"
"Simple. If you fly, I have to fly. If I have to fly, I need to become
an extremely handsome dragon. If I become an extremely handsome dragon,
I will become real hungry and need to eat a cow. And the authorities
will only redeem my cow expenses if it results from my foiling an
escape. So unless you're going to attempt escape, you need to buy me a
cow to eat before we go flying."
"I'm not going to escape, specially now we're at the court house."
"That's when many criminals decide the gig is up and make a desperate
run for it."
"I'm not a criminal."
Manny's protest held less than total conviction. For how could he be
sure of anything while he looked like a goddess, dressed as grammy's
special girl, and held a conversation with a giant lizard. Sometimes he
expected to wake from a dream at his parents. Or, more likely, in the
middle of the Beige Baron's camp, feverish because the cooks used the
wrong mushrooms in the stew. However, he did not wake, instead the
strangeness increased when he spotted Ashley, in a black robe and with a
white wig atop his leaves.
Ruck said, "I'll leave you with your barrister. Meanwhile, I'm off the
wardroom, the guy's will be so envious I got to see you naked."
"Hey, I thought I wasn't your type?"
"You're not. But I know a couple of horn dogs who'll buy me lunch based
on what I saw. Good luck and see you later, Toots. Unless of course the
judge sends the weres home or you to the Were home. In which case, glad
to have met you."
"Thanks, Ruck."
Manny hurried towards the ent, who offered a confident smile and said,
"Don't look so worried, Manny. Advocate del Fia is the one with the
tough job, not us."
Heartened somewhat by those words, he still worried del Fia seemed well
equipped to handle tough jobs. Yet he did not put his fears into words,
instead he put on a brave face as the two entered the courthouse.
Following Ashley up a couple of flights of stairs, they walked through a
crowd of misfits into the higher court where his case would be heard.
Inside, they found a courtroom similar to Judge Rock's, though this
judge's desk seemed carved from stone and the room held seats for
spectators, all of which sat empty. The administrating clerk, a viscous
looking orc, pointed to the right table, closest to the jury box. They
settled into place just as a silent del Fia arrived to sit at the other
table.
With both parties arrived, the clerk knocked on a door at the front the
room. Through it a second orc appeared, almost a twin of the first,
though wearing a gaol-keeper's uniform. While the clerk returned to the
small desk, the bailiff marched between the two parties, towards the
room's main entrance. Opening the door, he stuck his head out, and
yelled, "Hey, you lot, come in and find a seat."
While the bailiff returned to stand to the side of the judge's desk,
Manny asked Ashley why there was an audience.
"Those aren't spectators, they're the jury pool."
"Them?" Manny asked, more than a bit worried this group would choose his
fate. "Do we need to have a jury?"
"It's okay, Manny, Maybelline's foci were based upon this group. After
all, nobody else has time to serve on juries."
Once everyone found a seat, the orcs exchanged a look, the bailiff
cleared his throat and said, "Everybody rise. Rise I say. Good. Raise
your left hand and your right hand. Now bring them together to welcome
the Bringer of Light, the Terror of the Dark, the One, the Only, Justice
Bufort T. Bonecrusher."
The potential jurors clapped, applause that turned feverish when an
explosion of flame and smoke appeared at the door from which the bailiff
entered. The door through which ducked a figure out of a nightmare.
Massive and ugly, skin warted green, with fangs almost to his eyes and
below his chin. Yet the ogre wore a robe and wig similar to both
lawyers. Basking in the applause, he stared with baleful red eyes at
both tables.
But only for a moment. Suddenly, the judge spun in place, coming to a
stop with a finger pointed towards del Fia. He then began to sing in a
soulful and powerful voice.
What you want, plaintiff, I got
What's you need? You know I got it.
All you're askin' is for a little justice in my courtroom.
Hey plaintiff, in my courtroom, plaintiff.
The clerk and the bailiff moved to flank him, singing background, jiving
to the left with a clap, then to the right. All the invitation the
audience needed to clap along, as the judge continued to sing.
J U S T I C E
Find out what it means to me
J U S T I C E
And to all of thee
Spinning, his robe flaring around him, the Judge Bonecrusher now pointed
towards Manny
I ain't gonna do you wrong, defendant
I ain't gonna do you wrong because I don't wanna
All you're askin' is for a little justice in my courtroom.
Hey accused, in my courtroom, listen.
J U S T I C E
Find out what it means to me
J U S T I C E<
And to all of thee
All you want, ooh yeah, is a little justice
Yeah, plaintiff, a little justice
Oh accused, just some justice
Twirling once more, the judge moonwalked towards his desk, stopping to
face the appreciative jurors and stunned plaintiff and defendant. While
he did this the bailiff and clerk alternated pointing at the two tables,
first with their right arms, then their left. The entire time, repeating
the refrain
judgment for you
judgment for you
judgment for you
judgment for you
...
Judge Bonecrusher raised his massively muscled arms slowly towards the
sky and sang the last line of his introduction, dragging out the final
note long past a normal human or an abnormal diva would have been
winded.
Oooh, you want a little justice.
Finally, he grew silent, dropped his arms, and sat behind his desk. All
the signal required for the potential jurors to break out in rapturous
applause. Only after he decided they honoured him enough did Judge
Bonecrusher say, "Please be seated. The jury selection of the The Duchy
of Were versus Manny kin Nichino will now begin."
The applause died out beneath the shuffle of chairs as everybody took
his seat. The judge looked at the clerk and pointed his ears towards the
seats behind the tables. At this gesture, the clerk moved amongst the
crowd, handing out small shingles of wood, This task complete, Justice
Bonecrusher said, "I welcome the potential jurors to my court, sixty two
citizens here to do Fairetown proud as you perform kind of a sacred
duty. However, we understand lesser beings such as yourself are poor,
which means you will receive three fairethings for this morning's
choosing. If chosen as a juror, you will receive a further three
fairethings each additional session."
This statement set off a number of the potential jurors.
"Pick me!"
"No, pick me!"
"They're not going to kick Freddy-boy out of the pub tonight."
"Woah, man, I have fingers."
"I need money to feed my cats."
"Order! Order in the Court!" The judge roared, pulling a battlehammer
from beneath his robe and waving it above his head, eyes turning a
deeper red as he prepared for a rampage.
Into the silence engendered, the bailiff said, "I'll have a pastrami on
rye, hold the pickle."
The judge burst into laughter, pounding his hammer onto his sturdy desk
as he turned a darker green. Finally, he gained control of himself and
said, "Brenden, you know that joke gets me every time. Now don't tell it
again or I will place you in the Pit of Doom."
"Is that the pit with ice cream?"
"Yes it is. Maple pecan ice cream."
"But I'm allergic to pecans." Brenden said, his ruddy skin turning pale.
"Such is the horror of the Pit of Doom. But, anyhoo, back to the jury
selection. If you look at the shingle handed to you by my lovely
assistant, Jennifer, you will notice a number between one and ninety-
seven. If the number called matches the one on your shingle, you will
come forward and I will ask you three questions. The lawyers for each
party can then propose additional questions, in written format. If I
agree the matter is relevant and can read the handwriting, I will ask
that question. Note to the lawyers, based on what you heard you can
issue sixteen challenges for the following reasons: bias, bat shit
craziness, and there's just something about him. However, I will not
accept a challenge based upon a person's teeth, smell, or mathematical
skills. Everybody understand? Is that a nod or a head shake, Dulcet?"
"I have fingers," said a wild haired man, holding up his hands.
"Yes you do and I'll take that as a nod. Okay let's get this show
underway. Brenden and Jennifer, please start."
The former moved to the side of the room where he swept the covering
from a set of kettle drums and picked up two mallets, meanwhile the
clerk took a bucket from behind her desk. When the bailiff started a
steady drum roll, the clerk reached into her bucket, pulled out a
shingle, and said, "Number 38, who has number 38, anybody with number
38?"
When no one stood, the judge said, "Check you neighbour's numbers. Okay,
nobody has 38, try again, Jennifer."
"Number 73, who has number 73, anybody with number 73?"
When this call again resulted in silence, del Fia stood to ask, "Your
Honour, would it not be better to use sixty two shingles, one for each
potential juror?"
"Well, sure, if you're not interested in building tension."
"Ummm, tension?"
"Yes tension. It is one of the twenty-two non-foundational pillars upon
which I believe the modern court system should be based. Pull another
number, Jennifer."
"Number 19, who has number 19, anybody with number 19."
"Me!" A wizened old fellow shouted, springing from his chair and dashing
to the front of the room at the glacial pace allowed by a wonky leg and
a cane. "I'm all ready for your questions, Your Honour."
"Excellent, what is your favourite colour?"
"Still mauve, Your Honour."
"Is that a new hairstyle, Lester?"
"It is, Your Honour. I were getting a little thin on top, so I thought
to myself if I let one side grow long, I could comb it over to keep the
sun off the old noggin. Thank you for noticing."
"It's quite handsome. Last, If your wagon left Fairetown at noon,
traveling five donkey-miles per hour, how long will it take you to get
to the Lumber Mill and return?"
"Can I stop and wet my whistle at Porky's?"
"Of course, both ways if you wish."
"Will Lulu be free, when I stop?"
"On the way out, but not on the way in."
"Eleven hours and forty eight minutes."
"Thank you, Lester. Does either attorney have additional questions they
would like me to ask?"
Ashley said, "I'm good with Lester being a juror, Your Honour."
In turn, del Fia looked from the judge to the man. Holding a quill above
an ink well, he paused and studied those behind him, he said, "I guess
Lester is fine, Your Honour."
The two hours that followed often left Manny ready to bang his head on
the table. However, del Fia, soon found his bearings and joined in the
craziness with great verve. In fact, even after the jury choice and the
judge ordered a recess until afternoon, an excited gleam remained in the
advocate's eyes. A gleam accompanied by a large grin as he sauntered
from the courtroom.
His eyes glued to the man's back, Manny said, "He's up to something."
Ashley said, "Well he didn't seem to be up to anything this morning. He
allowed us to pick the jurors we wanted."
"But why would he allow that?" Manny asked.
The face of the ent proved expressive as he thought about his client's
question, with hope in his voice Ashley said, "Maybe, he was thrown off
by Judge Bonecrusher's methods. Or did not notice them gawking at you."
However, turning to watch the door close behind advocate, he said, "No,
you're definitely right, he's up to something."
***
With the jurors chosen, the two found themselves at a booth downstairs,
each driven to order a pastrami on rye, which they ate while they
contemplated what the advocate from Were held up his sleeve. Those
thoughts made them gloomy companions until Maude's boisterous arrival
provided a welcome distraction. Soon Manny found himself telling her
about the morning, now able to recognized the humour of the session.
"But the craziest part occurred when Jennifer, the orc clerk, called
number 6. Well these two ladies rushed to the front, the one worried
about her cats and a blonde wearing a yellow dress."
"June the Cleaver." Ashley said.
"What?"
"The blonde's name. Don't let her appearance fool you, she spends each
winter on her trap-lines, hunting beavers."
"Well neither the cat lady nor this June would admit they held a 9
rather than a 6 and before you knew it they started to fight, yanking
each other's hair, and carrying on right fierce. This continued until
Brendan waded in and separated them, holding each by her collar. del Fia
asked us if we wanted to declare both bat shit crazy? We agreed, nor was
that the last time we used that challenge. For awhile, I worried there
wouldn't be enough people."
Ashley said, "Fortunately, most of the Fairetown's Dockworker
Brotherhood showed up today. Don't laugh, it may seem crazy to have dock
workers when there are no docks, but it's actually a cunning form of
lazy."
"So the trials ready to start, this afternoon?" Maude asked. "What's
going to happen?"
"We'll start with opening statements. From there, well it's best not to
guess, Justice Bonecrusher runs a rather unorthodox court."
"Any more musical numbers?"
"Not until tomorrow morning."
"I wish I had been there to see it."
Manny said, "Surprised the heck out of me."
"Surprise is another of the Judge's non-foundational concepts." Ashley
said. "However, tardiness is not. We should return to the courtroom."
This time the Judge appeared with little fanfare, after the jury of
eleven men and one woman took their seats. In fact, he barely seemed
awake, obviously the result of a large lunch, some of which clung to his
fangs. Pointing a finger towards del Fia, he said, "Let's hear your
opening statements, Advocate del Fia."
Slowly the Were representative climbed to his feet and moved to stand
before the judge. Offering that worthy a bow, he turned towards the
jury, placed his right foot forward and raised his right hand in the
classical orator's pose, then in a clear, powerful voice spoke.
"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, let me ask you. What is a man? Is it
the flesh, the bones, the blood that makes up his body? It cannot be,
for I am sure you will agree with me that each of us is much more. We
are defined by the relationships we form, the actions we take, and the
agreements we make. The memory of these are permanent, surviving long
after decay withers away all but our skeletal husk.
"Which is why I say, when my excellent colleague points out that his
client is not Simon Unkler, your first thought should be that it does
not matter. For while we accept that in body they are different people,
we will prove that in all important matters they are one. We will show
that Manny kin Nichino has a long relationship of working with Simon
Unkler. Furthermore we will show that Manny kin Nichino sought out Simon
Unkler. And then agreed to become Simon Unkler, while not requiring his
friend to make a similar change.
"This agreement is what I ask you to hold close while you deliberate
upon the matter before you. For just as our friends, our actions, and
our words define us. So to do our responsibilities. We are our promises.
But can those bind us if we live in a world where a person can change
their self to someone else as easy as changing socks? Does this ability
not provide the wrongdoer with a perfect escape? For would we not have
captured Simon Unkler if Manny kin Nichino did not provide a decoy? Did
Manny kin Nichino, in taking Simon's form, not allow the wrongdoer to
escape from his responsibilities, from his promises? I say yes that he
did. After all, do friends not try to help friends?
"And if Manny kin Nichino's actions provided the perfect escape for
Simon Unkler from his responsibilities, from his promises, why would
friends of other wrongdoers not think they could get away with similar
acts? Acts more desperate than the one we consider today. Murder or rape
or kidnapping. Do you want people to provide a decoy and then say, but
that really isn't me? Of course you do not.
"But that is what will happen if we allow Simon Unkler to escape with
the help of Manny kin Nichino. People must realize that responsibilities
owned and the promises made are part of assuming another's form.
"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, Manny kin Nichino must be held
accountable. I thank you."
For a moment he held his pose, making eye contact with each juror. Once
more he offered a bow to the judge and then returned to his seat, not
allowing a look of satisfaction to appear on his face or to spare a
single glance for the defendant's table. If he did look, he would find
Ashley as inscrutable as a tree and Manny terrified by the sense of the
advocate's statement.
The smith's son, one-time soldier, current wagon guard and bigxie found
himself thinking he should give up and take his medicine. For few would
know the Sergeant's ability towards wrongdoing better than he and yet
his actions allowed the man to escape. Unfortunately, his memory then
began a litany of poor decisions beyond taking the sergeant's form. He
thought about his decision to cross the bridge into the Land Beyond. His
decision to fight on behalf of the pixies. Or to underestimate the
ingenuity of d'wharfs based on their appearance and his ability to fly.
Combined together, he realized his decision making ability seemed on par
with Good King Chuck of Sandlewood Bay, who cut down the nearby forest
of sandlewood in order to cover the nearby bay and make the world's
largest dance floor. Therefore, he stayed silent, hoping Ashley's
statement would hold the same power as del Fia's.
Judge Bonecrusher, who perked up while he listened to the Duchess'
advocate, now slumped back into his seat and said, "It'll be a hard act
to follow, but it's your turn Barrister Ashtonson."
Manny admitted the ashent possessed a surprising grace, which he showed
in full as he moved to stand where del Fia previously stood. But unlike
the Advocate from Were, Ashley did not possess the same strength and
confidence in either his mannerisms or voice.
"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, my colleague has raised an interesting
question, what is a man? It is a question I have happily debated many a
night over a mug of ale. However, my friends and I never found a
satisfactory answer. It is too great a question for the matter before
us. Instead we should leave it to philosophers. Today we need to focus
on a simpler question. That being, why would you force Manny kin Nichino
to live Simon Unkler's life?
"Why? Because, for a few days, my client used the man's form? There is
no crime in that, as long as the transformation, the parties involved in
the transformation, the time of the transformation, and the location of
the transformation is registered. And it was, which seems a curious
thing to do if the intent behind the change was to create a decoy. For
such a registration is immediately available to the public. Here, in
Were, in fact everywhere. Further, my client did not hide nor act
furtively, my client never even used Unkler's name while in his form.
Why? Because Manny kin Nichino never intended to serve as anybody's
decoy. Now I admit Simon Unkler' probably intended to use my client as a
decoy, but if anybody should be aware that the man is willing to abuse
friendship, it should be those from the Duchy of Were.
"But the intent of one individual should never provide reason to punish
another. Would we punish a landlord for a tenant's crime? Would you feel
it fair to receive punishment for a friend's actions? Of course not.
Then why would you hold Manny kin Nichino responsible for Simon Unkler's
actions?
"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, you should not."
It took all of Manny's control not to stand and clap. His doubts about
his lawyer faded into the past. Triumphantly he looked towards del Fia,
but the advocate did not look concerned. Instead he watched the jury, a
smile on his face. This reminded Manny whose opinion mattered in this
issue and his gaze swung towards the twelve citizens of Fairetown, none
of who watched the ashent, instead all looked over the defendant's head,
some with jaws seeking their chests.
Once more he followed someone else's, the entire jury's, stare.
And who Manny saw, just inside the courtroom, made him understood the
dropping of jaws.
Beautiful! Gorgeous! Mesmerizing! Stunning! Captivating! So many
adjectives, yet all diminished the truth. Despite his own recent
experiences, Manny could not stop his eyes from their exploration. Maybe
because she invited it, her pose almost demanded worship.
Where to start, if not her hair? Like the blackest night above
mountains, it crowned her majesty. Long and lustrous, cascading in a
wave down one side of her face and chest to play peek-a-boo with dark
eyes that drew one into their depths and red lips that promised untold
reward to those who accepted the invitation. It proved a difficult task,
for Manny, to pull attention from the woman's perfect features, but the
effort brought immediate reward. For it allowed him to focus on her
body, like one seen only in dreams or in a mirror. A body not quite
scandalously garbed in a red dress crafted by a Seamstrist of Maude's
skill, for from graceful neck to red tipped fingers and toes not a
wrinkle or seam distracted from the lush form covered by a silken
caress.
He knew he should not gawk, too often the recipient of such lowly
attention. But something in the Lady in Red's pose, maybe the way she
shone so bright, demanded his and everyone else's attention.
With all eyes upon her, the woman stood still a moment longer,
smouldering and drawing breath from many in the room. Only then did she
move towards the front of the courtroom. Flowing forward, red silk
rippling to show the grace of the finest dancers. And though at the end
of each step, her delicate sandals did little more than brush the wooden
floor, Manny felt each deep in his heart.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
"Stop that, Brenden!"
The judge's command served as the antidote to the woman's spell. People
saw the judge glare at a sheepish bailiff, who tried to halt one final
stroke of his mallet upon his drum.
Thwup!
Most allowed themselves only a moment of distraction from the dark
haired vision in their mix, but Manny fixated upon the court officers,
even more horrible to his newly seared vision. Yet the difference acted
as a balm and helped inure him to the new arrival when he again looked.
Undaunted at the interrupted spell, confident in her ability to recast
it whenever desired, she took two more steps and stopped at the railing
to offer a sizzling smile for the jurors.
A smile almost matched by del Fia's own, as he stood. Offering her an
extravagant bow, he said, "Your Honour, Lady and Gentlemen of the jury,
may I please present my liege, Her Grace Cindi, Duchess of Were."
We're Screwed if you Don't
_______________________
As their party left the courthouse, Ruck kept a wary eye upon the
bigxie, ready to spring into action at the first hint of flight. A wise
precaution, for Manny quivered, in annoyance, as if he just finished two
sticks of candy. Yet the toes of his high-heeled shoes never quite left
the ground, because escape would rid him of the needed audience upon
whom he could vent his frustrations at the afternoon's events. At the
Sisterhood's tent, he exploded.
"It's not fair," he said, echoing a complaint heard many times before
and since. "Your opening statement was perfect, but do yo